tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56195978293718422072018-03-07T07:00:12.446-08:00words and wardrobeswords and wardrobeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594415548921844967noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619597829371842207.post-79140563517504322112010-05-01T01:37:00.000-07:002010-05-01T01:50:33.686-07:00forget me not<p align="justify">in general, i am lucky. i may moan and complain (i like to think it's part of my charm), and sometimes feel that i get the raw deal, but overall when i look at the bigger picture, i am blessed. </p><p align="justify">but it's easy to get caught up in the negativity, to focus on the bad things in life that happen to you and think, why me? for example, you may have the most amazing, kind, and wonderful group of friends, yet you always remember the one friend who betrayed you, who hurt you, who broke your heart, who wasn't such a friend after all. trust me, there is no worse pain than losing a best friend. men may come and go, but friends are meant to stay, and when they don't, the rejection burns you to the core.</p><p align="justify">in the same way, rather than focusing on all the men who have thought you were great, beautiful, witty and intelligent, you focus on the one man who didn't want you. who didn't think you were great....infact if you are perfectly honest with yourself, he didn't think of you at all.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">i am a positive person, i am happy, i love life and i am optimistic. i try to see the glass as half full and think, it could be worse. however, every now and then, i'm not too proud to admit that i wallow in self pity. i think of those who have hurt me, and i feel angry. why me?</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">this got me thinking, those who hurt us, do they think of us? do they feel regret and sorrow for how they treated us? or are we just forgotten. memories of the past, that if stired don't conjure up much.</p><p align="justify"> </p><p align="justify">there can't be a much worse feeling than being forgotten. please don't forget me, i could never forget you.</p>words and wardrobeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594415548921844967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619597829371842207.post-76773543486997459832010-05-01T01:30:00.000-07:002010-05-01T01:36:13.702-07:00new beginnings<div align="justify">i'm not going to lie, for a very long time i lost the love i had for writing. after doing a degree that was predominately writing based, what had always been a life-long passion suddenly became a chore. instead of writing being my 'place' to express how i feel - a release - it became something that i associated with stress, pressure and a rather intense work load that never seemed to end.<br />however, a year to the day that i last put pen to paper - or in more appropriate terms, fingers to keyboard - i in the infamous words of cheryl cole got my mojo back. i suddenly wanted to write. infact i yearned to write, i realised how much i had missed it.<br />so, a little bit late, here's my blog. a place to ramble, a place to vent, to let off steam.<br />so welcome to the wonderful, slightly weird world of me.</div>words and wardrobeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11594415548921844967noreply@blogger.com0